When Chen Ang's gaze swept across the crowd again, everyone who was stared at by that calm and even indifferent gaze felt a chill run down their spines. Fear and anger interweaved, transforming into an indescribable emotion that surged in their chests.
The Clown, who was ignored by everyone, suddenly struggled twice and stubbornly raised his bloody head.
At first, there was confusion in the Clown's eyes, but when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, his eyes turned to fear. He used his fingers to dig at the floor and moved inch by inch, but his speed was too slow.
Soon, a pair of shoes stopped before his eyes. The Clown lifted his head and saw Chen Ang looking at him with his head tilted to one side.
That gaze was cruel and cold, and the Clown could not help but be stunned. The fear that came from being pushed to the brink turned into a wave of hostility. The Clown bared his teeth and grinned at Chen Ang.
"I think I've f * cked you before …"
When the Clown laughed, Chen Ang jogged back to his original spot. He dug out a stone brick from the corner and walked straight toward the Clown. Before the Clown could finish, he smashed the brick on his forehead. Once, and again.
The surrounding people were as quiet as cicadas in winter. In this rather large arena, other than the sound of breathing, there was only the sound of bricks smashing into flesh.
After a few more hits, the Clown collapsed to the ground. Chen Ang had no choice but to drag him by his legs to the center of the stage. A long trail of blood flowed like a brush. The Clown, who was dragged on the ground like a dead dog, used the last of his will to leap up from the ground and pounce at Chen Ang.
He bit at Chen Ang like a dying wolf. The blood and flesh on his body scattered like water droplets, and a terrible aura washed over Chen Ang.
Chen Ang kicked the clown's lower abdomen, and a clear breaking sound could be heard. The clown's upper and lower body were almost folded, and his spine was twisted into a U-shape. With a thud, he fell to the ground.
Squatting down before the Clown, Chen Ang studied him carefully. "You're called the Clown?" He pointed at the Clown's mouth. "No, this is not the Clown at all!"
"Where does The Clown's charm come from? Love and madness … You're crazy enough, but not loving enough. I want to see what you care about the most. Then, let me tell you a very clown truth: Bad days can turn anyone into me! "Chen Ang flipped through the clown's memories and then randomly scribbled them like graffiti.
Finally he took out his knife and made a smile on the clown's face.
The Clown tried to stop him. He raised his hand weakly to grab Chen Ang's pants, struggling desperately. Chen Ang pulled out the brick and aimed it at the hand. Once, twice. The hand that was only connected by a layer of skin and flesh could no longer hold on to Chen Ang.
Chen Ang shoved the knife into the Clown's mouth and soon finished his work. Looking at the Clown's wide smile, he calmly took a few steps back and turned around to sigh. "Now this is what a Clown should be like!"
The coliseum was a small enclosed space. If one stared at the blinding light for too long, their eyes would go blurry. More and more iron spikes were entangled in the space. The orange, old light shone on the thorny bush. The blood and rust intertwined, creating a cruel atmosphere.
The mechanical, cold, and simple test and game continued. The lucky corpses hung on the wall of thorns. The corpses were pierced by the iron spikes, and they hung randomly like crosses. As the corpses piled up, the smell of blood permeated the air. An indescribable sense of malice and cruelty flowed in the void.
It nourished this evil soil.
Chen Ang did not lack sacrifices. There was always an endless supply of sacrifices coming from all over the city to provide materials for this bloody sacrificial ground. The game continued. The lucky ones who completed the first round were all turned into corpses, and those who failed could only continue the cruel game for the sake of their loved ones.
For the sake of his family, Hook did not have to participate in the game. He tried his best to fulfill the condition of the end of the game. He used all his inspiration and creativity to create nightmares, blood, and cruelty.
The number of survivors decreased, and Chen Ang and the rest did not need to intervene anymore. The villains tortured each other. They spun like a millstone, grinding themselves and others into meat paste. The game became crueler as it progressed. When Robert left the stage, the scene had reached a point where even Chen Ang could not bear to watch anymore.
"That's why I said that no matter how talented you are, you can't compare to a good system …" Chen Ang gestured to the Punisher. "In the beginning, my methods were relatively crude. I could only scare those who were weaker and had concerns in their hearts, but later on, I dug out those who had a strong motivation to end everything."
"They start to move to complete this task. This is a good start for the system. It can gradually improve itself. Those who don't have the motivation become fuel and are gradually consumed. However, those who have the motivation, whether it's revenge or madness, will not be able to do anything about it. They were creative, and the system gave them the conditions to unleash their creativity.
"In this process, I only needed to tinker with the foundation of the system, and they would complete the game themselves!"
"Now we have 13 carriers …" Chen Ang scanned the twisted bodies. The Clown, Robert, Gatsby … These were all people who could not be redeemed from the game. Their fates would be ten times worse than those who had died.
A malice so thick that it almost materialized permeated the slaughterhouse. Daredevil led the fledglings away while The Punisher violently dispersed the 'residents' around the building.
The wounds on the thirteen carriers had already scabbed over. Logically speaking, they should have been dead by now. However, under the influence of a strange power, not only were they still struggling and howling with resentment, the wounds on their bodies were even healing.
Tiny tentacles grew out of the flesh from the wounds and groped around their bodies.
In Chen Ang's perception, these people's bodies were rapidly changing. There was indeed something descending into their bodies from the void, and the entire process of mutation made his scalp go numb.
This was unparalleled torture for the carriers' souls. With just one look at those indescribable beings, the minds of ordinary people would be greatly polluted and pushed to the brink of madness. Even people as smart as Stark and as determined as Captain America will be seriously affected, and these carriers can be said to be in close contact with those monsters.
They were inserting their bodies into their bodies while they were still alive.
"As someone said, a bad day will turn anyone into me!"
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